


The Reed She Bent

by ishie



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:05:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishie/pseuds/ishie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even here in the stillness of the Green Lands, the Wives feel the sting as pinpricks of fire land on their outstretched hands. They lie in Saruman's path, they know. They have read it in the twisting of vines and the withering of the corn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reed She Bent

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Any - Entwives - 'So you'll keep the world at bay, keep your secrets and your scars. / But you've been weathering the storm / and it's been blowing hard.'" for muir_wolf at [yethoperemains](http://yethoperemains.livejournal.com/)

Minutes before the sunrise, when the dew lies heavy on the grass, light breaks in the south.

Thick columns of smoke rise as if the Black Hand builds his domain straight into the brightening sky. Cinder and ash dance on the winds. Gouts of flame crackle beyond their hearing but the pain bites deep as fire consumes what once was their charge.

Even here in the stillness of the Green Lands, the Wives feel the sting as pinpricks of fire land on their outstretched hands. They lie in Saruman's path, they know. They have read it in the twisting of vines and the withering of the corn.

"We withdraw," Silver-leaf hums. Petals drift from her arms as she bends to cradle a newly risen seedling, pale in the new morning light. "We will reseed."

Dew-dappled heads nod in agreement.

"To the East."

"North."

"No, we must go West, beyond the misty ridge."

No one speaks of the Husbands. They will do what they will.

Wand-limb, the Slender-birch, turns her face to the wind. Once it blew cool and sweet, bringing a taste of the seas. The Seaweed Bride, it was, singing to call her children home.

She feels the stirring of sap deep within, the call of life. Her roots twine below so much of these lands and beyond. The gardens have risen from her footsteps as the past falls into memory. She has sung the songs too often to abandon them now.

"No," she says, her voice as dark and green as her husband's beard.

"We stay," she tells the Wives. These are her sisters and daughters, brides of the earth all. "We have grown deep and old where our charges have not. Let them fly on the winds and in the hands of Men. Toward the sun or into the North, over the ridges and rivers. Our breath will follow where they go. We wait."

"We _burn_ ," cries Bramble-seed, her lament echoed by River-pine and Golden-field. Their voices tremble on the wind, rising to a shriek.

Wand-limb, the Slender-birch, thinks of the flowers that crumble into ash as the Shadow covers the land. The silvery waters that run yellow with poison. She feels all of it rain upon her leathery skin like the blows from an axe. The Wives are tall and strong, but they bend as reeds before the winds. They survive as they always have: by rising, quick and light, once the storms have passed.

But they are lucky to be so when others are not.

"We burn," she agrees. "We burn in their place, and we walk again."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the bargain must be made](https://archiveofourown.org/works/506684) by [Muir_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/pseuds/Muir_Wolf)




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